


The Chronology of a Relationship, with Emphasis on Sexual Milestones

by MontanaHarper



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-06
Updated: 2009-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MontanaHarper/pseuds/MontanaHarper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Consider this my take on the backstory of Casspeach's story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chronology of a Relationship, with Emphasis on Sexual Milestones

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [So musical a discord](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/3230) by Casspeach. 



> I can't seem to find a list of what foods Colin's actually allergic to, so I apologise in advance if I've screwed up in that area. (ETA: And I had. Edited to fix that.) Thanks to [](http://casspeach.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**casspeach**](http://casspeach.dreamwidth.org/) for her encouragement and inspiration, not to mention her leet Brit-picking and beta skills.

The first time they trade handjobs there might be a little alcohol involved – not too much, because Colin's been down that road before and he's still got to work with Bradley every day – and a lot of awkward fumbling, and it isn't awful but it isn't very good, either, and Colin is pretty sure the first time is going to be the last time.

At least until the next day, when Bradley corners him in the lift on the way out of their hotel and snogs him senseless, only pulling away when the doors actually start to open on the lobby. It's unexpected but not unpleasant, and it leaves Colin grinning all the way to Pierrefonds.

The rest of the day is pretty typical, all the way down to how Bradley so sweetly offers to fetch him lunch from craft services and returns with a dish of lentil stew that _looks_ fine but is laced with enough chilli sauce that Colin can't see properly after the first bite.

"Bastard," he manages, once the coughing stops, but he's half smiling as he says it and Bradley's still laughing. Wiping the tears away, Colin says, "Just you wait. Some morning there's going to be chili powder in your pants."

Bradley's eyes widen. "You'd never," he says, but he sounds uncertain. Then he grins smugly. "You'd never," he repeats. "You wouldn't want my cock out of commission."

"Yeah, well, I would've said the same about my mouth, but that didn't stop you, did it?" Colin retorts.

Whatever response Colin's expecting, he doesn't get anything like it. Instead, Bradley stares at Colin's lips like he's just put the concept of "mouth" and "cock" together for the first time and possibly the idea's overloaded his brain.

Colin's beginning to think Bradley's a bit simple. That or he's never done the whole sex-with-a-bloke thing before, which, well, would actually explain a lot. And be _unbelievably_ hot.

The first time Colin sucks Bradley's cock there's no alcohol involved and no awkward fumbling, and even though Bradley complains about the burn of the chilli – which, really, Colin can't help but feel is Bradley's own fault, so he doesn't have a lot of sympathy – Bradley still comes fast and a little loud, one fist tangled in Colin's hair, and Colin knows this is definitely not going to be the last time.

And when Bradley tugs him up and pins him against the wall, his hand working quick and just the right side of too hard on Colin's cock, Colin grabs hold of fake chain mail and muscular biceps and goes off like a firecracker.

Afterwards, Bradley offers Colin his own lunch, which turns out to be undoctored lentil stew and they run lines for the rest of the break, Bradley sneaking bits of potato when he thinks Colin's not paying attention.

~ | ~ | ~

The first time Bradley suggests maybe he could suck Colin's cock, Colin is leery. Bradley's teeth are a bit too sharp, his smile a bit too wide, and his evil streak visible from space.

They're stretched out on Colin's bed, telly going with the sound off, tee-shirts pushed up and jeans half undone, all hands and mouths and slow, easy thrusts. It's disturbingly like fifth form all over again, except Colin's not near as likely to come in his pants as he was at fifteen. Also, there's no chance his mum will knock on the hotel door to check if Liam's staying for supper. He has to stifle a laugh at the thought, and Bradley pulls back and tilts his head quizzically.

"Just thinking that at least my mum's not likely to interrupt."

Bradley looks at him like he's waiting for him to get to the funny bit. When it becomes apparent that there is no more to the explanation, he leans in and kisses the tip of Colin's nose. "You are very odd, you know."

"'s what you like about me," Colin says, nipping at Bradley's lower lip.

"Actually –" Bradley just moves, just _flexes_ and suddenly Colin's on his back, Bradley pinning him down with the weight of his body, his hands pressing Colin's wrists into the pillows. He mouths his way up Colin's neck, then breathes into his ear, "I like a lot about you."

When Colin pushes up with his arms, Bradley isn't shifted, not even a little bit. Colin absolutely, definitely does not nearly come just from being held down by Bradley James. Not even a little bit.

He can feel Bradley's mouth curve against his throat, can picture the superior smirk – Arthur's smirk, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, but Colin knows better, knows it's one hundred percent Bradley, the arrogant git. Who had better not stop any time soon or Colin is going to _kill_ him, so it's a good thing when he starts working his way down Colin's body, kissing and licking and biting apparently randomly, or maybe with some deranged pattern that only makes sense to him. Finally he slides his hands down, fingers trailing lightly over Colin's chest and stomach to hook under the elastic waist of Colin's pants, one thumb rubbing circles against the damp cotton where Colin's cock has been leaking, and Colin shudders, pushes up into the touch.

The first time Bradley sucks Colin's cock it's not perfect – a little rough, a little awkward – but he's eager and attentive, and the soft, needy little noises he makes as he swallows around the head are the sexiest thing Colin has heard in forever.

~ | ~ | ~

The first time Colin suggests actual fucking, he thinks Bradley's going to have a heart attack.

Since his epiphany about Bradley's situational virginity, Colin's been careful not to push, not to steer things in a direction that might induce a freakout, but Bradley's been so _good_ about it all, so unreserved in everything they've done so far that Colin kind of stops worrying about it after a month or so.

It turns out the universe has just been waiting for him to become complacent.

He wakes up one Sunday morning to Bradley tucked in behind him, slowly and methodically alternating kisses and gentle bites down the back of his neck and out along his shoulder. Fighting the urge to melt through the mattress, he mumbles, "Morning."

Bradley just hums in response, sliding his hand across Colin's hip and down to wrap around Colin's very interested cock, his movements easy and unhurried, like he's got the whole day just to get Colin off. And actually he has, since it's Sunday, but Colin's not sure how long he can stand that lazy, too-light touch when what he really wants is the rough and real feel of Bradley's hands and mouth, of Bradley's _need_, so he curls his own fingers around Bradley's, tightening his grip and speeding up the pace a little.

"Pushy," Bradley says with a laugh, and then he bites a little harder on Colin's neck, right where it slopes into his shoulder, and Colin shudders.

Half still asleep and half incoherent from being awakened Bradley-style, Colin pushes back just to feel Bradley's breath catch and his cock stutter hot and sticky-slick across Colin's skin, and then he can't help but imagine how it'd feel to have Bradley's cock thick and hard and driving into him.

He fumbles blindly for the bedside table and pulls the bottle of lube and a strip of foil packets out, dangling them over his shoulder near where Bradley's face should be. "God, here," he says, and his voice comes out breathless and laced with need.

Bradley stills instantly, like he's been frozen in place, and it takes a second for Colin to pull himself together enough to realise that this might be the long-awaited freakout, and if it is then Bradley's timing sucks in the worst way because Colin _does not want to deal with it right now_, not when he's wound so tight his body is practically humming with it.

"We don't have to," he says, and it's easier than he expects to sound casual. "I just – I thought you'd like it."

There's a faint susurration as Bradley takes a breath. "You want to," he says, and Colin can't quite read his inflection; it might be a question or a statement or even an accusation.

He decides it's easiest to pretend it's a question, and answers, "Yeah. I mean, not if you don't, but I like it, yeah."

The first time Bradley fucks Colin is on a lazy Sunday morning. They have all the time in the world for Bradley to trail slick fingerprints over Colin's skin, to open him up and press inside with tentative strokes that slowly grow bolder, more demanding, until Colin's murmured encouragement becomes a breathless litany of _yes_ and _please_ and _Bradley_.

~ | ~ | ~

The first time Bradley asks Colin to fuck him, Colin feels like he's going to have a heart attack.

It's nearly two months and an embarrassing number of late-night emergency condom purchases after the first time Bradley fucked him, and Colin hasn't even thought about suggesting that Bradley bottom. Well, okay, he's thought about it, but _what_ he's thought is that Bradley would probably disappear so fast there'd be an audible pop from the displaced air.

And honestly, he's fine with things as they stand. Bradley's nearly always horny, and Colin's finding it difficult to turn around on set without being pinned to the wall in an alcove or behind a tapestry, Bradley's hand or mouth eager on his cock, and once he's brought Colin off he'll spin him around and push into him, fuck him until Colin can barely remember his own name, their costumes pushed aside just enough to allow access.

Today is different. Not in public – there Bradley is the same as he always is, boisterous and cheerful and kind of obnoxious – but when it's been just the two of them Bradley's more subdued, and he hasn't instigated semi-public sex, hasn't even groped Colin all day. Colin's not particularly worried, though, at least not until Bradley follows him into his hotel room that night, closes the door and leans back against it, and says the four words that make Colin's heart sink even more than "thanks, we'll call you".

"We need to talk."

In a split second Colin's already decided that whatever Bradley says, he's going to smile and be okay with it; three months is more than he ever expected after that first fumbled grope in a pub toilet, and while the sex is good – brilliant, actually; fucking brilliant – Bradley's friendship is more important.

"Yeah?" he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking his trainers off.

Bradley's still standing with his back to the door, and he's not quite meeting Colin's eye across the room. "I, um," he starts, and it's the first time Colin's heard him actually sound hesitant; Bradley's usually a 'speak now, think after' kind of guy. "D'you want to do me?" he finally blurts out, and it takes Colin a second to figure out what he's even talking about.

Once he does figure it out, he doesn't know what to do with it. _Of course_ he wants to fuck Bradley; he'd have to be daft not to. But not when Bradley can barely get the offer out, not when Bradley looks like he's about to fall on his sword – or, Colin's brain offers up, like he's about to fall on _Colin's_ sword, and _fuck_, now is not the time for laughter, even if it is an hysterical giggle, so he bites the inside of his cheek until the urge passes.

"Am I breathing?" He doesn't wait to see what Bradley's reaction is, pushing on before he can change his mind, "But I'm not going to."

"I – What?" Bradley crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at Colin. "Here, wait a minute, did you actually just turn me down?"

And this time Colin can't stifle the laugh, because it's so completely ridiculous, Bradley going from apprehensive to indignant in the blink of an eye. Bradley glares, which just sends Colin into a worse fit of giggling.

He's nearly recovered when Bradley says peevishly, "Fine, if my arse isn't good enough for you, _Colin_ –" and turns away, his hand going to the door handle.

Colin makes it from the bed to the door in record time, wedging himself between it and Bradley and blocking the way. "It's a very fine arse, Bradley; trust me, I have noticed. It's a pity it's attached to a complete idiot, though." He glares Bradley into silence and continues, "You come in here like the heroine of a Victorian romance, looking like you're for the chopping block and offering up your virtue to fulfil some bizarre Neanderthal sense of obligation or fair play or I don't even know what, and then you're put out when I don't fall all over myself at the chance?"

Bradley raises his eyebrows. "Are you finished, Mr I-Can-Mix-the-Eras-of-My-Metaphors-with-the-Best-of-Them?" he asks, and then he kisses Colin. Very, very thoroughly.

Eventually, when they're both panting and Colin's jeans have ended up mysteriously undone, Bradley leans his forehead against Colin's and says, "First, I do not behave in any way like a woman, Victorian or other. Second, it's nothing to do with obligation or fair play and everything to do with how you look when I'm fucking you – like there's nothing and no one else in the world." Bradley hesitates, then smirks. "And I reckon as a way to kill a few hours it can't be worse than karaoke with Angel," which Colin's pretty sure means 'and I'm determined yet also rather terrified, so a little reassurance wouldn't go amiss'.

"Oh, well," Colin says, backing Bradley toward the bed, "if it's just a time-waster you're after. Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

Bradley shudders under Colin's hands, and Colin's not sure if it's from arousal or nerves or something else entirely, so he keeps touching Bradley, kissing him, until Bradley is stretched out beneath him, all wide dark eyes and sleek muscle and warm golden skin. There's still an undeniable tension radiating from Bradley, and Colin wants to soothe it away, wants to tell Bradley that they don't have to do this, that he's happy with the status quo, but he knows it's a lost cause – Bradley is stubborn and brave and Colin kind of loves that about him – and then Bradley's thighs relax, fall open so that Colin's lying between his legs, and Colin has to close his eyes against the ache in his chest and the realisation that maybe he kind of loves _everything_ about Bradley.

The first time Colin fucks Bradley, he feels vulnerable, broken open and exposed in a way he hasn't before; he can't seem to look away from Bradley's face, can't focus on anything but the fullness of Bradley's lower lip, caught between his teeth, or the way his eyes flutter closed at the first touch of Colin's slick, careful fingers. And when they're both spent, sweaty and flushed and trading lazy kisses as they catch their breath, then Bradley smiles – soft and a little bit shy like Colin's never seen from him before – and says, "Yeah, me too."


End file.
